A Trip Down Memory Lane
by Padfoothastoebeans
Summary: When Hermione unknowingly uses a broken time turner, she is sent into a seemingly random past. But when she discovers she is now starting school with the Marauders, does she expect to change the past? Or will she create the timeline she dreads happening? Does not begin in the Marauder's Era, but we'll get there!
1. August 31 to September 1, 1993

**This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter time travel fic, so hopefully it goes well! As you can tell, the beginning will be a little slow since it's an AU from Hermione's perspective of the beginning of their third year. It's important to note that this story also will mostly be information only found in the original seven books, but if I stumble across information via wiki or Pottermore, I may use it to justify my timeline. Let me know in a review/PM what you think!**

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As usual, Hermione Granger was ecstatic to be going back to Hogwarts. Of course, she loved her parents, and she would miss them terribly, but the opportunity to see her friends, learn more about magic, and explore magical Britain was always too amazing to turn down. She was excited to see her best friends, Harry and Ron, and spend the last night of summer with them in the Leaky Cauldron before the beginning of their third year. Ron had written her, explaining Harry's predicament with his Aunt Marge (who he was of no relation to) and staying in the Leaky after meeting the Minister of Magic. _That_ was a story Hermione was worried would result in his expulsion from school—something she had only been worried about since their first day.

Hermione was just about finished packing her things when a large barn owl swooped into her room, and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet on her nightstand. She didn't have a subscription, so this was an odd occurrence. The owl didn't fly off, but waited patiently for a reply. Unrolling the newspaper revealed a note on the front page, reading

 _Hermione, thought you would be interested to see what's happened in the wizarding world. See you in a few, and stay safe! Love, Molly_

Hermione quickly read over the cover story, seeing that the first Azkaban escapee ever was on the loose in Britain somewhere. The mugshot of Sirius Black was screaming from the side, and he looked as deranged as a mass murderer could, especially with his story of murdering thirteen people in broad daylight. She penned a reply to Mrs. Weasley promising her safety, and sent it with the owl, which she assumed had to be borrowed, as Errol hadn't looked that healthy since she had seen the bird.

"Hermione! Are you about ready to go?" her father called from the other room.

"Yes, Dad! I'll be out in a moment!" she yelled back, scrambling to put away her writing materials and newspaper.

She finished her packing and took her trunk to her car, and soon she and her parents were off to the divide between the muggle and magical world.

She arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and was immediately greeted by Ron running out the door to give her a hug, followed quickly by the Weasley women for a much stronger embrace. The group made their way inside, and Hermione was checked in for the night.

"What do you kids think about going out for a snack? I'd love to get to know your parents," Mr. Weasley said, eying the muggles with deep curiosity. Hermione wanted to laugh; she knew it was not just her parents that had the man interested. Ron quickly agreed, and his dad gave him a few coins to pay for their adventure.

"It sure is nice having some pocket change, for once," Ron sighed. "It'll be a shame when we've used it all up. But I think Mum stored some away in savings. And look! I've got a new wand, too!"

Ron eagerly showed Hermione his new wand, willow with unicorn hair, and she enthusiastically replied, "Well don't break this one on a tree then!" That shut Ron up, and they walked most of the way through Diagon Alley in silence.

"How about we see if Harry is in any of the shops, since he isn't in the Leaky Cauldron?" Ron suggested, which Hermione agreed to, as long as they could get their shopping done, and they stopped by both Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and they even considered going to Gringotts before giving up and settling at Florean Fortescue's for ice cream. Soon enough, though, Harry walked by, looking as if he were searching for something and had no idea where to look.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ron called, and Harry turned around, and Hermione joined in waving him over. They had a pleasant conversation about their summers, mostly Harry and his debacle with his Aunt, and their upcoming courses—to which Hermione had to justify her extra bags of books for her extra classes. Their ice cream trip ended with a trip to the Magical Menagerie, where they could find all sorts of animals, including the owl Hermione was looking for.

The trio waited for assistance for Ron to get something for Scabbers, and when the witch in the store began talking to Ron about a new rat, Hermione wandered off in search of a pet of her own. She looked at the owls, but none of them appealed to her. They all seemed grumpy and uninterested in her affections. The cats, however, were all very affectionate, and she decided to choose one of those instead. In the back of a cage was a large, orange cat that was batting at the owls across the way. Hermione opened the cage, and the cat immediately leaped out. It attacked Scabbers, who was sitting on the counter, rather than the owls as Hermione had expected him to do, and the rat ran out the door, with Ron and Harry calling after him.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Miss. Crookshanks has a mind of his own and he won't allow anyone to care for him. I think he's part kneazle," the witch explained, as she wrestled the cat, attempting to stay out of range of his claws.

"Well, actually, I think he's handsome. How much would he be?" Hermione asked politely, and reached for the cat. He eagerly went to her, much to the distaste of the store owner.

"He's been here for ages, the mad cat. No one else would ever consider taking him. If you could pay four galleons, I wouldn't mind at all. Quite handsome, indeed," she huffed. Hermione and the witch gathered the supplies she would need for proper cat care, and Hermione paid the witch, with still two galleons left of her birthday money. She made her way to the door, just as Ron and Harry were walking back towards the shop. She and Ron quickly got into an argument about the cat, but Hermione couldn't understand why Ron would think that would happen again. She felt sorry for the poor kitty—it was probably a lack of affection from the shoppers that made him so upset. Of course, Hermione had tamed him with her own caring and understanding nature, and if Ron would do the same, then perhaps Crookshanks would respond in kind!

They made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, where Mr. Weasley was reading the same edition of the paper she saw that morning. Ron made a stupid joke about reward money for catching a murderer, which Mr. Weasley understandably shut down quickly. The rest of the Weasleys joined them soon after, and all greeted Harry very affectionately. Hermione couldn't help but frown at Fred and George's antics. It was rude of them to mock their brother, especially since Percy had achieved such a great thing by being Head Boy. It wasn't his fault the twins had no respect for anything worth accomplishing.

Dinner that night passed too quickly for Hermione's taste. She enjoyed sitting at the large table with the Weasleys; it made her feel as if she had her own siblings. Fred, George, and Percy were still arguing, although the topic seemed to have changed, and Hermione was having pleasant conversation with Mr. Weasley about her muggle holiday and the different ways she travelled around, and what she used to get ready in the mornings, and televisions, and all sorts of muggle devices. She left after dessert, packed the rest of her new school equipment, and went to bed early to not miss their cars in the morning.

The trip to King's Cross was uneventful, as far as anything with the Weasleys went, but once they were on the train, and seated in a compartment with Professor R. J. Lupin (as Hermione _so_ cleverly could read), Harry's explanation of the argument between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley quickly had Hermione worried for his safety. She didn't know what she would do if she lost one of her best friends because he thought he could take out a murderer. Yes, he had defeated Voldemort, but that wasn't really him at all, and she didn't think he would be stupid enough to actively find Sirius Black, but he would be stupid enough to start looking at the clues that led him to Black if he found any, just like with the Philosopher's Stone and the Basilisk, and-

"Oh, Harry... you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry-" She was _so_ worried, but he interrupted her to say that trouble found him, and though she disagreed, she was confident he really wouldn't go look for an escaped convict. They continued to discuss Sirius Black until Hermione's fears were sedated, but then a faint whistle was heard, and Harry pulled out a Sneakoscope, glowing, spinning, and making all sorts of noise. Harry quickly stuffed it back in his socks and in his trunk, so as to not wake Professor Lupin, and they began discussing Hogsmeade, until Harry bitterly admitted he wouldn't be going, and that Black on the loose would prevent his getting special permission to leave the castle. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his basket, and the cat immediately began trying to get to Scabbers. Of course, Ron should have known that cats chasing rats was the natural order of things, and Crookshanks was smart and could sense the weakness in Ron's pet.

When the trolley came, Harry grabbed a load of cauldron cakes for them, but Professor Lupin still didn't stir. However, he had given a snort later on when Malfoy stopped by to insult Ron's family—again. The sky was getting darker the further the train rattled up north, and the train began to slow. They were still not close to Hogwarts, and as the train halted, the rain and wind seemed to get louder. Suddenly, the lamps went out, and Ron stepped on Hermione's foot, much to her annoyance.

As Ron was investigating the outside, and what looked to be people boarding, Neville quite literally fell into their compartment. As Hermione was leaving to go check with the driver, she ran into Ginny, who was trying to get in. The confusion of everyone trying to find a place to sit (and not sit on each other or Crookshanks) was what finally woke the professor.

"Quiet!" he said in sharp, hoarse voice. He lit a bluebell flame in his hand (Hermione was familiar with the spell, having used it in numerous ways, such as lighting Professor Snape on fire) and he said, "Stay where you are," as he got to his feet. Before he could leave the compartment, though, a cloaked figure opened the door and blocked their passage out. Hermione couldn't see under the hood, but saw the decaying and slimy hand that held the door open. She thought she was going to be sick, and not just from the dead flesh of this creature. As it took a breath, she felt cold. Not just the shivers of a thin coat in the snow, but truly cold in the pit of her stomach, as if she had been hungry her whole life, and she would never be warm again. Her mind was full of fear, and not just of this creature in front of her, but for Harry being attacked by Sirius Black, and the memory of seeing the Basilisk's eyes last year, and for Ron, when he was attacked by the chess pieces two years ago. Over and over, her mind was replaying the horrible moments she had feared for her life, and for the life of her friends, and she was terrified she would never see them happy or healthy again. She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or vomit. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Professor Lupin point his wand at the monster, and banish it with a white wisp.

After the monster fled, Hermione was still shaken by her terrors and the feeling of death surrounding her heart, and stomach, and mind. She saw that Harry was in worse shape; he had actually passed out, and Hermione couldn't imagine what he had seen for that to occur. Professor Lupin gave them all chocolate before going to talk to the driver, and she ate some, and felt much better. Hermione and Ron began to tell Harry what had happened to him, much to his chagrin. She could tell he was feeling uncomfortable with seeming so weak, and she moved to comfort him with a friendly hug. Harry hadn't touched his chocolate yet, and she was about to tell him it would make him feel warm again, until Professor Lupin came back and joked that it was, in fact, safe to eat.

They continued on to Hogwarts, and though Hermione was still worried Harry might relapse or be sick, he appeared to be on the mend. At least, he was until the dementors at the gates. He had a bite of chocolate again, and was able to sit up, despite looking horribly sick, still. Of course, Malfoy was outside their carriage the moment they disembarked, to mock Harry for having such a strong reaction to the dementors. Luckily, Professor Lupin appeared before the confrontation could escalate, and Hermione and her friends were able to enter the castle. Once inside, Professor McGonagall sought both Hermione and Harry out. Harry looked worried he was already in trouble, but Hermione hoped she would be able to ask her head of house about her schedule for the term.

Madam Promfrey showed up shortly after, to examine Harry and determine him fit for the feast. She seemed happy to know that Professor Lupin had given Harry chocolate, and that he would be fine.

"Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together," she said, and Harry left the room.

Hermione was nervous; she hoped Professor McGonagall wouldn't tell her that it was impossible to take more than just three electives, and that she would have to cut some out. However, she needn't have worried. Professor McGonagall almost had a smile on her face as she took a small box out from her desk drawer.

"Now Miss Granger, I hope I have your understanding that what I am about to tell you is something you may never discuss with anyone other than myself or Professor Dumbledore, no matter how much they claim they already know about your situation," she said, waiting for Hermione's nod of confirmation before continuing, "This is what the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic calls a time-turner, and it is the only way you will be able to achieve the greatness you have set out for this term."

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 **For all recognized text/events in this chapter, refer to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, chapters 4 and 5.**


	2. September 1, 1993

**This story isn't immediately jumping into time travel (and for a good reason, I promise) so I'm sorry if the buildup is too slow, but it is hopefully worth the wait! Review/PM for any suggestions, opinions, or weird questions (also if you can tell me if cereal should be considered a soup)**

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Hermione didn't know what to expect when Professor McGonagall told her she had a solution for her course schedule, but a time turner was definitely not it.

"A time turner, Professor?" she questioned, having never read about one.

Professor McGonagall nodded once, then jumped into the explanation. "A time turner is one of the Ministry's best kept secrets, which is why you haven't heard of it. It has the ability to allow its user to travel through time." Hermione nodded; it made sense that this would be useful for doing multiple things at a certain point in the day.

"So, if it allows someone to manipulate time—" Hermione started, but was cut off very sharply.

"No, I said _travel_ through time. Time itself cannot be manipulated, and you cannot change anything that has already happened, just as you cannot change things that have yet to pass, since really, those things have also already happened. Time is cyclical; what you have done in the past affects the future, and as a part of the future, you have already affected your past. If you go back in time, you will not be able to change what your past self knows to be true about the future. Anything that occurs during a trip into the past has somehow already affected what you know to be true in the impending moments. For that reason, you absolutely cannot let yourself be seen once you've used the time turner, particularly by yourself." Hermione's head was spinning. In a way, it made sense. If she saw herself (her own person travelling from a few hours in the future), her future self would have had to know she'd be seen, and would have had to change her plans to not be seen. It was a paradox, and to defeat it, she would only have to play into what she already knew to have occurred.

"I think I understand what you mean, Professor. That means that if I have two classes at once, I will already have been in both at the same time, because in my timeline, I go to one, use the time turner, then go to the other, but in everyone else's timeline, I am just simply in the classes," she said slowly, making sure to be precise with her language as she tried to wrap her head around the ball of yarn that seemed to be the timeline. Professor McGonagall nodded, already understanding.

"You will be the only person that knows where in your timeline you are. We will not be able to tell if you've used the time turner or not before coming to any classes. No professors will be the wiser. For that reason, you must have a very clear-cut schedule of what classes you will be going to with and without the use of time magic. If possible, you should avoid the use of the time turner for all applications except going to classes. It will be much easier to avoid confrontations about where you were last seen studying, eating, or talking with friends. If this is too much responsibility, it is imperative that you are honest with yourself and with me about taking courses off your schedule to fit into a normal school day." Professor McGonagall sounded very sharp, the way she got when she was dealing with students with disciplinary problems. However, Hermione understood the implications of how dangerous this could be, and was willing to do this for her own studies.

She said as much, and with a nod, Professor McGonagall withdrew the time turner from the small box on the desk. It was an hourglass suspended in a small orb. It had brass knobs on the side that Hermione guessed would literally _turn_ time. There were two large loops, probably for the time turner to be used as necklace for two people, one of which Professor McGonagall was already putting around her neck. She gestured for Hermione to take the other, and when she did, the professor said, "We are going to use the time turner for the first time together. We will only be going back an hour, but I want you to understand how exactly this will work."

Hermione noted the time on her watch, and Professor McGonagall wound one brass knob once. Immediately, she felt as though she was going in reverse, a strange sensation when she knew she wasn't actually moving. When they came to a 'stop,' Hermione could see a bit more light peeking out from the distant hills, and noticed a grandfather clock displaying a time one hour earlier than her watch.

"Professor, what if you walk in with Harry and I? At this time, we were on our way up the stairs with you. Won't you walk in on us here?" Hermione questioned.

"Hermione," Professor McGonagall started in an unusually amused tone, "Don't you think I planned to take you back in time? We won't be seen, or else you would have remembered seeing us. We'll be in an adjoining classroom for the next hour, observing."

Hermione and the deputy headmistress went to the room next door, where Professor McGonagall offered to answer any further questions Hermione had, but she understood the concept, and was excited to see herself in the past. For the next fifty minutes, they sat at the door and watched as Hermione and Harry came in, both still looking a little shaken from the dementors, but Hermione less so than Harry. Then, embarrassingly, Hermione saw herself begin to zone out as Madam Pomfrey fussed over Harry. Finally, those two left, and she again heard Professor McGonagall's explanation of the time turner, which made even more sense after having observed its effects. Those two vanished, and Professor McGonagall and Hermione, the only ones still in the timeline, stepped out of the classroom into the office.

"So, basically there are only ever multiples of a person during the actual hour or hours of time travel," Hermione stated, but it was obvious because no new Hermione or McGonagall had shown up when the time turner was used.

"Yes, we are the products of what we just witnessed," Professor McGongall confirmed. Hermione smiled brightly, and confident in her understanding of the time turner, left the office in a wonderful mood, excited to get to all her classes that term.

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 **None of these things were mentioned in the book, but hopefully my time travel explanation makes sense.**


	3. December, 1993 to Unknown

**Long time, no update. Shout out to work for that. I appreciate anyone who has been wondering if I would ever update this, and I especially appreciate anyone who is reading it now (no matter when now is)! I hope this chapter doesn't ramble, and flows correctly. I wrote over this whole period of time between updates. Let me know in a review, PM, or carrier pigeon what you think!**

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Not long into the term, Hermione was as stressed as exam time last year. This year, however, she was dreading taking twelve exams. When Hermione received the time turner, she thought perhaps she would be able to keep track of all the times she was going backward, and theoretically, she could have, but she lost track around the third day, when she wasn't sure if she had turned two hours or three to make it to Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, Divination, and get lunch, which she had missed two (or three?) times that day alone. In her spare time on the first day, she had read about time laws, and decided she would be using the full five hours she could turn time to her benefit—she took careful notes that day during Care of Magical Creatures of what classrooms would be empty that she could go to for quiet studying. Even with twenty-nine hours in a day, though, she still didn't have time to figure out how much she had been going back in time and whether it was four or five or two—

Oh well. She had more important things to think about.

She was running from Arithmancy, where Ron and Harry had her distracted with thoughts of their first Hogsmeade weekend. Although she was happy to have shared the time in the town with Harry, she was worried he would be found out for his illicit use of the newly discovered "Marauders' Map" and his cloak. After all, they had just found out that not only was Sirius Black looking for him, but they also found out why. And what a reason! His father's death, the result of Black's betrayal? And the following information that the murders of not just Peter Pettigrew, but the twelve muggles, were the crimes that sentenced Black to Azkaban. Of course, Hermione felt awful about that, too, but she just couldn't imagine a world where Harry would get in trouble for all that he had done that weekend.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione wasn't paying attention when she literally ran into none other than Draco Malfoy. Disgusted, he shoved her past him, where she was then tripped by Crabbe, and fell. The books in her hands scattered over the floor, and she felt the now-familiar shape of the time turner stab into her chest painfully. From the floor, she glared up at him. He sneered down at her, and said, "watch where you're going, mudblood!" before storming off and loudly pronouncing that people who can't even walk should never be considered for places in wizarding society. Hermione slowly gathered her things, happy she would have the next hour in Muggle Studies to collect herself before she would have to face Harry and Ron and tell them about the encounter. _Or maybe not, considering last year_ , she thought, remembering the slug incident. Not to mention the questions that would arise from her presence near Slytherins when she didn't have any classes near theirs… seemingly.

Sighing, she pulled out her time turner, gave it a turn, and, lost in thought about Harry again, missed the crack that had appeared in the time turner after her fall.

Hermione didn't faint or lose consciousness during her turn through time. Not that she expected to, of course. She never had before. But when she looked around and saw an unfamiliar lobby, surrounded by adults, and definitely _not_ the hallway leading to theclasshewouldhavegoneto, she decided that perhaps her time turner was not working properly, and she thought that maybe she should have had a dramatic fainting episode where she would wake up in St. Mungo's with her parents and her best friends and they would question her on where she ended up and how and how did she have a time turner and why did it go wrong and when was she and where was she and what is going—

Hermione had to calm down.

She didn't know when or where she was; she didn't know when or where she could find help or someone she knew, but she did suspect where she was, and that would help immensely when trying to find help in her predicament.

The Ministry of Magic was famed for its Fountain of Magical Brethren, the circular fountain with a statue of a witch and wizard surrounded by other magical creatures. Hermione had read about its meaning and was horrified to find that it was essentially a monument to the superiority of wizards… but that was not what she was focused on at the moment. Instead, she wondered how she managed to find herself in the lobby of the Ministry. Luckily, as time turners were the property of the Ministry, she was in the right place to find out what happened.

Hermione made her way to the security desk near the fountain, and was then stopped with a grunt of "wand, please." The wizard at the desk looked bored, but to be fair, all he did was record information about the visitors' wands. She hesitated at the thought of giving him her wand, but decided it would be better to act cooperatively with the authorities if she came across someone who meant her harm. She handed him her wand, and waited silently while the watchwizard put it on the wand weigher. As expected, there was no happy chirp or raised gate, or anything of the sort. Instead, a small alarm went off, and the wand weigher turned red. The watchwizard was no longer having a boring day, Hermione supposed.

"This wand hasn't been registered as being sold to anyone. Who are you, and where did you get this wand?" the watchwizard eyed Hermione critically, and she shrunk under his gaze.

"well you see, Mr…" she paused, unsure of what to call him, but with no encouragement of his name, she continued, "I'm not sure how I got here, but I am a student from Hogwarts and that's where I'm supposed to be right now. I would like to speak to someone who knows about the turners to help me get back." She was intentionally vague. Hopefully the people in charge of the time turners would know what she meant, but she knew that "best kept secrets of the Ministry" didn't stay that way by her explaining them to everyone she met—even if she was in the Ministry at the moment.

"It's June. No one is in Hogwarts right now. Have you been confounded?" The wizard seemed critical of her, and rightly so. She shook her head, no. She was frightened at the prospect of him sending her away without any help, and the idea that she would be trapped where she was, with nothing and no one but her school books. Even more concerned, the watchwizard asked, "Where are your parents then, kid? You shouldn't be wandering London alone, especially if you found your way into the Ministry."

Hermione had no response to that, because she agreed. She just shook her head slowly, and said, "please, could you help me? I really need to speak with the people in charge of the more… _sensitive_ matters of the Ministry. It's something I was told to speak to no one else about," she pleaded. If she was lucky, the watchwizard would not continue to question her and she could find out what happened.

"There you are young lady! I've been waiting for you, but clearly your wand must be of some extraordinary interest because you've been held up here all this time!" came a voice from behind the watchwizard. Hermione peaked around, and saw a middle-aged man in robes so black, they appeared to just be the absence of light.

"You really were looking for the Unspeakables?" the watchwizard was still critical of Hermione, but since she was getting somewhere, she agreed with a nod of her head, not trusting her voice to conceal her confusion.

"Well if you would like to get along then, let's go." And the mysterious man turned and started for the lift. Hermione rushed after him, almost running to keep up with his long strides. He seemed to be about six feet tall, and had a face that Hermione forgot as soon as she wasn't looking at it. Looking again, though, she saw that he had dark brown hair, almost black, with the smallest amount of grey strands peaking through. He had very few wrinkles, but his seemingly permanent neutral expression was probably the cause of that. Overall, his face was forgettable, and probably on purpose, if he was unspeakable.

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't seem to know you," Hermione tried to start, "I'm—"

"Wait." That was the only thing she heard from him until the lift dropped them off at the ninth floor. When they stepped out, an owl and two paper airplanes followed, only to disappear.

"I look forward to the day when they completely transition to owl-less messages," he murmured, and continued walking. Hermione followed him to the center a circular chamber with no marked doors. Immediately, the room rotated and the doors came to a stop, indistinguishable in their differences. The man turned, and walked through a door slightly behind them.

Inside, Hermione was taken aback by the sight of hundreds of clocks being tinkered with by wizards and witches with the same of the blackest black robes as her unknown host. No one looked up at his entrance, and he walked with Hermione to a worktable in the back, where he sat down in front of a clean patch of desk. "If you would please, I'd like to see your time turner." Hermione was confused, but since he knew what the device was, she hoped he would have the answers to what had happened, as well. She handed him the cracked hourglass, only now seeing the faintest dusting of sand falling from the side. She looked over her school robes, but didn't see any of the gold shimmers in the fabric. He examined the small machine, with the occasional _hmmm_ and a few prods with his wand.

"Oi Brody, c'mere a minute," the man said after a few minutes. Hermione fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable with her strange surroundings and the mostly silent work being done by all the people around her. Another man got up from a workbench across the room. He was an unhealthy pale, like he rarely saw the sun, or was sickly. He looked annoyed, perhaps at being called over during his work. "Could you use my proper name, for once? It's _Broderick_ for Merlin's sake," he complained on arrival. Hermione was happy to have a name put to a face, finally. "And when did you steal my project, eh? That's sensitive and I just finish- _What have you done to it?_ "

Broderick snatched the time turner from Hermione's unnamed host, examining the crack and the sand that had steadily been falling out. She attempted to raise her hand for his attention, but was distracted by the sheer amount her sleeves had grown in the few minutes since the stranger took her time turner. Still, Broderick noticed her movement, and glanced from her over-sized robes to the time turner, and back again. "This is an interesting development," he muttered, barely loud enough for Hermione to hear. He quickly looped the time turner back around her neck, and observed the crack again. Hermione was curious, but also checked for dust on her robes. There was none. It was no longer leaking from the crack in the time turner.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure when you came from, or why you came here, but I am certain of a few very important things," Broderick started. Hermione tried to interrupt to explain herself, but he continued with, "First off, don't take this time turner off unless one of the two of us ask you to. Secondly, we will need to get the least amount of information from you we can. And lastly, we will have to get you some clothes that fit you, dear child." Hermione promptly shut her mouth, not expecting to have to refrain from spilling her entire story, and also a little concerned that her clothes were about three sizes too large for her suddenly.

"What is it that I can tell you then, sir?" Hermione said, a little nervous at the idea of the situation she found herself in. The watchwizard had mentioned that it was June, but she had just been in Hogwarts, about to go to Arithmancy, or was she coming from Arithmancy? Had she gone to Divination yet? Would she be going to Divination, at this rate? She hoped her current situation didn't affect her marks, as useless as _some_ of them were. Shaking those thoughts away, she focused again on the pair of Ministry officials.

"Well, I suppose your first name would be in order, and the time you came from, as well." Broderick said, prompting Hermione.

She bit her lip, a nervous habit she thought had stopped last year. "My name is Hermione, and I came from the year 1993. When exactly am I?" The stranger nearly choked, a bugged out look on his face. "1993... but that goes against all our calculations!" This did not instill any confidence in Hermione, and she shifted her feet.

"Hermione, pleasure to meet you. I'm Broderick Bode, and this is Saul Croaker. We're Unspeakables, the people who work in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. We are currently in the time room, and I hope you understand some of our work, due to having a time turner, but we can't go into much detail past that information. It's currently 1971... You've come a long way back in time, but I have a few theories as to the reason for it. Could you tell me how your time turner broke?"

Hermione was in shock- 1971? She couldn't have traveled so far! She wasn't even born yet... Her parents must have only been children! And an entire room dedicated to time? She was thinking through the implications. There were experiments; she had read about them, but of course she never imagined being near the place they occurred! _And in 1971!_

"I was using the time turner in my third year at Hogwarts to attend all my classes. You see, I was signed up for all the classes, but of course with some occurring simultaneously, I was granted permission to use the time turner to go to each. I was on my way to my 9 o'clock Arithmancy from 9 o'clock Muggle- no that's not right. I was going from Arithmancy to Muggle Studies, and I was tripped by a Slytherin right before I used the time turner. I must have broken it in my fall, and it took me here. I'm not sure why I traveled to the Ministry instead of staying in place as I usually do..." She trailed off, lost in thought. Mr. Bode and Mr. Croaker appeared to also be thinking of her tale, hopefully with some idea of how she appeared.

"I think you may have traveled here because it is the closest you could get to the inception of this particular time turner. I finished my work on it just before you came down, but the room itself is warded to prevent time and space travel in and out. This model is designed to keep you in place in space, but it only travels to places it has been before, hence your travel to the Ministry, as well. It was the closest the time turner could get to your location, and a location it had been previously. Apparently, it is a design flaw that will have to stay as it is. I'm concerned about the crack in the time turner, though. Obviously, that is the break that caused your significant time shift, but it also seems to be affecting your person... You said your third year?" At Hermione's nod, he continued, "It seems that without the time turner around your neck, you may have become subject to the paradox of your nonexistence in this time. You seem to be de-aging... something that hasn't progressed since you put the time turner around your neck again, but it may work in our favor, so long as you keep the time turner on. To be quite honest, we have yet to see another time traveler from our future, and as such, we have no way of sending you back." Hermione was sure she had a horrified look on her face, because Mr. Bode quickly backtracked, saying "Now, don't get too upset, of course we'll be working something out, but in the meantime you'll have to just settle in. Is there anything you would like to do? We will be sure to be as unobtrusive to your history as possible, but we can certainly accommodate your presence here."

Hermione was reeling. Living in 1971? She supposed it wouldn't be much different from 1993, but without her friends... _Ron and Harry_... How would she survive without their companionship? She recalled her first months of school, with no friends until Halloween, and inwardly cringed. "Well, you see, I'd like to stay in the wizarding world, but my parents were muggles so I'm not sure I'd have a place to live. And I really can't get behind on my studies. What if I can't get home? I'd need my education up-to-date to keep a life here..." She faltered, worried now that her life would be devoid of any of her close relationships. No parents or friends? She would have to survive, but it was a bleak outlook. "I could go to Hogwarts, correct?" She stopped herself from biting her lip again, wondering if it was a side effect of the de-aging. Mr. Bode and Mr. Croaker both nodded, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "But, where will I be staying?" The men looked at each other, and Mr. Croaker said, "Well I have a spare room, if you'd like to stay there until Hogwarts. It's just around the corner, in Muggle London."

"That would be lovely, Mr. Croaker. Thank you so much for your hospitality." Hermione appreciated the gesture, and was nervous about the quiet man, but she had no one else to trust in this decade.

"We better get you to your new home, then. Brody, we'll be taking the rest of the day off."

"It's Broderick!"

* * *

 **I think I've moved past anything that was canon in PoA, and I've moved into pure fanon.**


	4. September 1, 1971

**I don't know why I find it so difficult to get to writing, but eventually I get around to it! Hopefully it doesn't suck (let me know if it doesn't make sense because it took a while to write... obviously). Hopefully the first Marauder interaction is what I dreamed it would be! That is, slightly awkward and a little bit of a letdown because half the people in the conversation don't know their significance, and the other half can't exactly fill them in. Without further ado, the story!**

* * *

"Dad! You know I _have_ been to Hogwarts before, right?" Hermione was quickly getting frustrated with her adopted guardian, who insisted it would be suspicious to be called "Mr. Croaker" in public. They were in King's Cross Station, approaching the platform to get to the train, and Saul was full of helpful hints about getting through the barrier, and where to find a seat, and how the sorting would go, and also not to forget to write, and did she make sure she had all her robes before she left home? It was all very parent-like, but it was all very unnecessary.

"Would you keep it down, Hermione? Not everyone knows that little secret, and you must not tell them! There's a reason we're called Unspeakables, you know. And also, don't tell anyone that, either… If they don't know, it's best we don't let them catch on, yeah? Anyway, I do quite hope you get sorted into a respectable house. Not that there's anything wrong with any of the houses, but the political climate concerning Slytherin…" Hermione tuned out again. She was well aware of the political climate. Posing as the half-blood daughter of Saul Croaker allowed her a backstory without any friends or family in the wizarding world. Of course, her mother ran away from him when she was still pregnant, so he also had no idea he had a child. As far as the world would care, he met her after she received her Hogwarts letter, and her mother sent her to London.

The mark of wizardry was everywhere in King's Cross, when Hermione looked for it. It appeared that the 1970s fashion was more difficult for the wizarding world to imitate, and the pureblood families barely blending in caught Hermione's eye as she walked to the divide between platforms 9 and 10. One such family stuck out more than the rest. Making no moves to disguise their robes, a proud, dark haired woman led two young boys to the platform, only one of them with a trunk. The boys themselves were almost identical from the back, with the only exception of one being a little shorter. They both had very neatly groomed dark brown hair, the same as their, presumably, mother. Their robes were clearly hemmed to their heights and fitted to their waists, and made of some fine material Hermione could only guess at. She wondered if she knew their children in the future.

"... The Hufflepuffs stick to themselves mostly, but I still have great friends from the house of loyalty. I was a Ravenclaw, myself, and I expect I could see you there. Brilliancy seems to be one of your inherited traits, eh? Of course, no shame in being a Gryffindor, so long as you don't leap head first into all those brash decisions I recall them making. All the Lions I know today are in the auror department, now that I think about it…" Hermione tuned out again. She was really hoping for Gryffindor, again, even though she had no plans to be an auror. She didn't have anything against Ravenclaw, of course, but she was worried about how clever they were, and what kinds of things they would learn about her secrets.

"Dad, we're at the platform! Will you say good-bye to me here or at the train?" Hermione broke in, almost hoping he would let her go without a long, drawn-out farewell.

"Well of course I'll accompany you to the other side of the platform, dear! But we should hurry, the train leaves in 10 minutes, with or without you!" Hermione knew that too well, recalling Harry and Ron's truant arrival at Hogwarts, 21 years in the future.

As always, Hermione marveled at the feeling of passing through the seemingly solid barrier. She usually felt the wards buck a little at the idea of her parents following her, and missed the sensation of it giving in so they could see her off. With Mr. Croaker, there was no such feeling. Other students were making rushed good-byes to their parents, and struggling to fit trunks through the train doors. Mr. Croaker helped Hermione lift hers off the platform, and turned around for a hug, not letting her pass until he got it.

"I've never had a daughter before, but you seem to be as close as it'll get for now. Please stay safe, and write me when you need to. I'll see you at the end of the year, if not sooner, yeah?" Hermione nodded, touched that he cared for her after only knowing her since her crash landing in his decade. She hugged him back, a tight, fierce squeeze, then ran past his form in the doorway to get onto the train, hearing a whistle to signal five minutes to departure. She was nervous to interact with other students in 1971; she wasn't confident that her current events trivia over the summer was enough to pass as a relatively normal witch of the age.

Luckily enough, Hermione quickly found an empty compartment and, looking to make sure no one noticed a first year doing magic, lifted her trunk onto the rack above the seats. She sat down with her favorite pre-Hogwarts book, _Hogwarts: A History_ , and happily started to devour the pages, knowing that they would be familiar.

"Er, excuse me, but all the compartments are full…" a gawky, sandy-haired boy stood at the door, a nervous look on his face. Hermione closed the book on her finger, and gestured to come in with her other hand.

"Well, yes, please come sit, then," she replied, wondering if this would be a new friend or someone who would find her out.

With surprising strength, he lifted a fairly new trunk onto the racks. His clothes were not as new. They were a little shabby, loose on him, and barely long enough, though the boy couldn't have been any older than Hermione. He was just tall. He turned, and reached out a hand to shake hers. She took it, in somewhat of a trance and they said at the same time,

"I'm Remus"

"You're R.J. Lupin."

Hermione blushed, and dropped his hand quickly, recalling how much older the trunk was the first time she saw it.

"How do you know that?"

"It's written on your suitcase, Remus" Hermione blushed harder as she remembered saying the same thing to Ron all those months ago and twenty years in the future.

Remus turned a faint pink, glanced at his trunk, and nodded. "Yeah, mum expects I could use it for travelling elsewhere too, and I won't have to worry about losing it like that." Hermione thought back to the suitcases she had left at home, bright and monogrammed for the same purpose. "Do you travel often, then?"

"Not often, but my family has moved around a lot since I was small."

Hermione was finding it surprisingly easy to reconcile the worn-down man she associated with Professor Lupin and this young boy who would become him. She wondered what would happen to turn him into a werewolf. "Well I hope you won't be moving too much. Might make it difficult for your school owls to find you from now on," she joked, trying to find a sense of normalcy with this boy.

"I never did catch your name, by the way," he said with a small smile.

"I'm-" Hermione was interrupted by another boy at the door. This boy, not so tall, and not nearly as thin, was clearly also a first year, as he was dressed in plain black robes.

"Everywhere else is full," he said as he came to sit down. "I'm Peter. Peter Pettigrew. And you are?"

"Remus Lupin, pleasure to meet you."

"I was just saying that I'm Hermione G-Croaker." Hermione stumbled over her new last name, silently berating her slip. What a stupid thing to forget to practice! Another second of thought, and she realized who she was sitting across from. She tried to put thoughts of her own past and Peter's future out of her mind. The boy had hair a little darker than Remus's, and a little longer. It hung past his ears, but wasn't styled particularly well. He had bright blue eyes that darted through the compartment before resting on Hermione's book.

"Reading before we've even left London? Sure to be a Ravenclaw, then, yeah?" Peter commented, reminding Hermione that she was still holding her book. Just as tradition dictated, she probably wouldn't read nearly as much as she hoped when she got on the train. Hopefully she wouldn't be searching for a toad this time around, though. She felt a pang of homesickness at that thought, reminded of her meeting with Harry, Ron, and Scabbers, and absently closed a bookmark on her page.

" _Hogwarts: A History_ is one of my favorites. I'm not sure what house I'll get, though. It's really a toss-up. Just not Slytherin, I know that. I wouldn't mind any others. My father was very enthusiastic about Ravenclaw; it's his own house," Hermione replied, a little offended at the stereotype, but also remembering her own expectations when she learned about the houses. "And what of your own houses?"

"Well my father was a Gryffindor. He works for the Ministry now. Mum is a muggle he met while out on an assignment for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I reckon I'll probably be a Gryffindor like him, if I'm not in Slytherin." Remus turned pink, and Hermione wondered what darkness could be in this shy, slightly awkward boy to make him think such a thing. Perhaps he was just ambitious, though.

"My mum was a Slytherin. She said there's nothing wrong with ambition or knowing when to keep your mouth shut and your ears open. I'd like to think I'm above that, though. Could fancy myself a Gryffindor, instead, since they always tend to show how strong and powerful they are, you know?" Peter was a strange mix of confidence in what he was saying, and a diminutive nature, as if he was acting the part of an extrovert, but really wanted to be left alone. He was talkative though, and Hermione wanted to learn more about him.

"What about your dad, Peter?" She asked,

"Mum said she didn't need him after she got pregnant. Never really asked after that," he replied, seemingly flippant. He fiddled with the sleeve of his robes, clearly not wanting to discuss it. Hermione wanted to press for more information, interested in getting to know the future best friend of her best friend's parents, but let it drop.

The rest of the train ride passed with innocuous conversations, mainly started by Hermione. She was glad that Peter and Remus found some common ground and she was excited to see the friendships beginning between rounds of Exploding Snap and things they wanted to experience at Hogwarts.

When Hermione noticed the familiar landscape outside showing their approach to the station, she dismissed herself from the compartment to change into her school robes. At the same time, a few compartments down, she saw a red-headed girl leaving hers as well, robes in hand. They both walked to the loo, and began changing. Leaving, Hermione noticed the plain black robes, and introduced herself to the fellow first year.

"Lily Evans, pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that not everyone here has been a complete prat. These two boys I got stuck in a compartment with have been completely rude to my only friend from home. Well, I best get back before a fight breaks out. See you around, Hermione!"

Harry's mother walked away from Hermione with purpose in her step, and although she never got the chance to raise him, Hermione saw the similarities between daughter and son in that mannerism alone. She was tempted to chase after Lily, but figured they would have enough time to learn more about each other throughout the semester. She returned to her own compartment, happy to see that Remus and Peter had both changed as well.

With the rest of the ride passing quickly, they could only talk of the sorting. No new conversations about the houses came up, but Remus and Peter both speculated on how they would be sorted. Apparently, neither of them had the surprise ruined for them, and Hermione wasn't going to be the one to disappoint them with the truth. Instead, she let them make grander and grander stories, some of which she had heard herself on the way to Hogwarts her first time. Perhaps the rumors had started in the 70s.

Departing from the train was the closest Hermione thought she could get to experiencing deja vu. From outside, she could hear Hagrid's voice calling for first years to follow him to the boats, and she watched as the older students filed out of train cars and headed to the carriages. On the ride across the lake, Hermione was happy that Remus and Peter stuck with her, and they gained the company of a quiet girl who made no move to introduce herself.

Unlike her first sorting experience, Hermione decided not to share her knowledge of the castle's enchantments, assuming that the daughter of a wizard wouldn't have to rely on a book for all the knowledge she had of the castle. Instead, she marveled at how wonderful it was to be at another Welcoming Feast, and enjoyed pointing out things that were both innocuous and something she could have heard about from home. Professor McGonagall's speech about house sorting was painfully familiar. Thinking about the family she had made in her house made her miss Harry and Ron almost as much as she had when she first arrived in the decade.

After filing into the Great Hall, she stood near the front, hoping she would not have to worry about the sorting of her new friends being changed from history, since she would be sorted first. The sight of the Sorting Hat was surprising; it seemed just as beaten up and shabby as it was in the future. Once the song began, Hermione realized that not much would change between the two time periods.

 _A talking hat, the founders said_

 _When searching for a tool_

 _To sort the first years into houses_

 _Within their brand new school._

 _So step right up and try me on_

 _I'll peer inside your mind._

 _To one of four houses you'll go,_

 _Based on what I find._

 _Perhaps you'll choose Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brash and brave._

 _If you think red and gold suits you,_

 _A place there I will save._

 _We also offer Hufflepuff,_

 _The home of loyalty._

 _In this house fairness and hard work_

 _Will make you royalty._

 _Ravenclaw, the studious bunch,_

 _May be the house you pick._

 _Where friendship born from knowledge_

 _Will be sure to stick._

 _You may find yourself in Slytherin,_

 _Where the cunning want to go,_

 _In this house of green and silver,_

 _Ambition is sure to grow._

 _No matter what house you land in,_

 _Have no fears or doubt._

 _I'll sort you where your mind should go,_

 _As you'll soon find out!_

The hat fell silent, and Professor McGonagall stood up with the first year roster in hand.

"Adrian, Lucas" was the first name called. A very thin boy with an angular face sat down on the stool. His sorting wasn't immediate, but couldn't have been longer than thirty seconds before the hat called out a resounding "RAVENCLAW!"

Excited to be the first house with a new student, the applause from the Eagles was enthusiastic as they welcomed Lucas to their ranks. Hermione wasn't quite interested in hearing every name that got called out. She was both worried about when she would return home, and also what her sorting would result in. She tuned out, until she heard a very familiar name that had followed her and her friends for months.

"Black, Sirius"

One of the well-dressed boys from the platform jostled elbows with the boy next to him. From her position, Hermione couldn't quite see who it was. Black made his way up to the stool, and took the hat from McGonagall, and put it on with a great deal of flair. His sorting was not quite a hatstall, but did take longer than those before him. He seemed to be arguing with the hat, and eventually, a self-satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the same time the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

He sauntered- the only way Hermione could explain his confident swagger- to the Gryffindor table while a slight hush took over the hall. The Slytherins were looking at each other with trepidation, while the Gryffindors glanced at each other with confusion. Eventually, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw gave half-hearted applause, and Gryffindor followed suit. Another name was called while Hermione was trying to figure out what was happening with Sirius Black, and they were sorted to Hufflepuff.

"Croaker, Hermione" was called before she was ready for it. A little nervous that she wouldn't be going to a house she belonged in, and also a little worried about how the sorting hat would take the news that she'd already been sorted, Hermione sat down.

"Hermione _Croaker_ is it? Well, you've certainly come a long way to get under my brim. A lot of cleverness I see in you, and that would do well in Ravenclaw. But I already know that you could be clever in any house; you've already proven that. Of course, a lot of bravery, and the chivalry to match any Gryffindor, your old house. Really, I couldn't place you in Hufflepuff. You work hard, yes, but you don't always do it in the name of fairness. No, what I see most in you right now is your ambition. Your quest to save your friends and fight time itself is noble, yes, but ambitious to the utmost extremes. And I think you'll find out a lot more about the person you're trying to save James Potter from in SLYTHERIN!"

Hermione couldn't get a word in with the hat before its shocking declaration. For a moment, she was too stunned to stand up. The one house she wanted nothing to do with! And the hat put her there for her _ambition_? Yes, she wanted more than anything for her friend to not grow up an orphan, and for Sirius Black to not be the betrayer of the Potters. She wasn't quite sure what she would learn about him from the Slytherins, though. Shakily, she got up from the stool and joined the other first years at her new table. She sent a nervous smile towards the upper years, and received some curious but polite stares in response. Clearly, Slytherins were not upset with their sorting, usually.

Throughout the rest of the sorting, Hermione only vaguely listened as a few more students sat next to her, and heard the other familiar names Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter all sit at the table she should have been at. From across the hall, Remus and Peter sent her small smiles of encouragement, and she gave a half-wave in return. At least her first friendships wouldn't be broken over the small matter of her house. At the end of the sorting, one other name she knew stuck out. Severus Snape sat down a few seats down from her position at the table, and was also sending glances at the Gryffindor table. Hermione glanced over, and was surprised to see it was Lily Evans, mother of Harry Potter, on the receiving end of the looks.

James Potter was sitting next to Lily. The boy was clearly Harry's father. No one lied when they said he was the spitting image of his father. The jet-black, messy hair was clearly a Potter family trademark, as well as the smaller stature that Hermione was happy to note couldn't have been a result of abuse from the Dursleys. The only difference was that Harry "had his mother's eyes," but Hermione couldn't tell from across the hall what color James' were. Lily seemed to be getting increasingly annoyed with James, much to Snape's ire, and Hermione's surprise. From the stories everyone told, James and Lily had been incredibly in love and had practically married straight out of school.

Hermione had the sudden guilty thought that perhaps it was her fault. Did she ruin their future by coming from it? Was James the friend that Lily had been talking about on the train? Maybe he was upset with her about being gone for so long…. But that wouldn't make sense. He was clearly bothering her at the table, and it wouldn't be the case if he was the one upset. Hermione toyed with the idea of meddling, but decided she would have to be very stealthy about her intentions if she planned to interfere in the relationship.

"What's so interesting about the Lions, little Snake?" one of her new classmates asked, not particularly nicely, and prodded her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, just curious about a girl I met on the train. She seemed nice and I was hoping to get to know her better. Only, she's not exactly sharing a table with me," Hermione said, hoping she didn't sound too rude, but also wanting to explain her actions.

"You'll have plenty of time for all that during the year. For now, pay attention to the Headmaster. The feast can't start until after his speech," a prefect about halfway down the table leaned over to say. As if it was a cue, Professor Dumbledore, looking quite old and regal, but just a little younger than Hermione had ever seen him, stood up at his podium.

"Welcome back, returning students, and well met, first years! I have just a few words before we eat. Please, everyone, note that the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, forbidden. I would also like to say that there is a new Whomping Willow that has been planted on the grounds. Unless you would like to feel the ire of the Willow, Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout, I would highly recommend avoiding it. Finally, please welcome this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Burkhard. I'm sure we will all give him the respect befitting his title. With that, let the feast begin!"

Hermione couldn't seem to find any food on the table to eat. None of it looked as appetizing as any meal she had ever had at Hogwarts. The other Slytherins were eating with a controlled gusto; it was surprising to see first years with the same manners as the seventh years, but Hermione noticed many of her housemates were taking more seconds and thirds than anyone who filled up their plate. Hermione scooped a few things onto her plate, not really interested in what she was eating. While the new first years got to know one another, she stayed very quiet, and resigned herself to coming up with new plans to save the future. Clearly, she had a lot of work to do from inside her new house if she wanted the outcome she was hoping for.

Eventually, the feast wound down, and the Slytherin prefects led the students to the dungeons to see their dormitories. Hermione knew the door to the common room was hidden and disguised as a stone wall, but she bitterly remembered missing the opportunity to visit herself, as she had been mostly feline at the time. The prefects stopped just where Harry and Ron had described, and one announced, "The password to the common room is 'Ambition.' Do not go around telling people this, or where the common room is located, as both of those secrets are what secures the dormitories." Hermione thought the password was rather simple, but the added benefit of an invisible door was enough for her to trust the security. _Although_ , she pondered, _my mistrust mostly stems from the people on the other side of the door_.

Hermione entered the common room behind the others, and was not surprised to see that the decor had not changed from one time to the next. The lake indeed made the room glow green, and high backed chairs were separated into small groups for socialization, with some set in front of tables as well. Hermione was pleased to see that there was little distraction in the room from studying, but she was disappointed that the lake held no interesting views. Overall, she was impressed with the sight, though she did miss the comfort and familiarity she felt in the Gryffindor common room, even as early as her original first year.

The prefects directed the first years to their rooms, and Hermione went to the room she shared with few other new Slytherin girls, and immediately laid down in the bed with her trunk in front of it. She didn't look around and didn't socialize with the other girls, but instead was lost in thoughts of her friends back home, and her other first nights at Hogwarts. Her new friends, several stories above her, captivated her thoughts some, and she hoped she would be able to get to know them, despite their new houses. She fell asleep to thoughts of Ron and Harry, and dreamed of a future with Harry's parents, and all their friends, and the happiness and love that Harry so very much deserved.


End file.
